


when shadows crawl

by wrtchedwolf



Category: Andy Biersack - Fandom, Black Veil Brides
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, F/M, Heavy Angst, You know him, do angels count as fantasy?, there’s the devil he’s cool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 10:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14017989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrtchedwolf/pseuds/wrtchedwolf
Summary: "andy, please don't do this," she pleaded. "not tonight.""i don't wanna be here," his voice shook. there was no hiding the angry red rings around his eyes anymore, tears wanting to spill through, not even in the dimness. "i don't wanna be here."





	1. two lost souls {paint it black}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> song: paint it black by andy black

"andy, come back to bed," he heard the voice of his lover mumble from the hotel room behind him, the person he was proud to call his wife. he was sat on the windowsill, legs dangling dangerously over the edge. they were several floors up, and he could've plummeted to his death at any moment, but he was too tired of everything to give a shit.

sighing, andy took a long drag of his cigarette, holding it in his mouth and letting the calming sensation flow over his bones before he exhaled the deadly smoke.

"i'll be there in a minute."

a lie.

he couldn't sleep, as per usual, and he knew that if he went back to bed, he would only find himself in this very same spot mere minutes later.

shuffling of blankets sounded, his wife joining him in the dark a second after, the two of them looking out towards the city that seemed more like a curse than a home.

"i don't want to be here anymore, em," he whispered under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear, as if he were afraid the draft in the air would carry his words to someone else's ears. the tender words made him feel vulnerable, and vulnerability made it easy for others to take advantage of such words.

her cold hand found his shoulder, thumb rubbing slow circles into the fabric of his shirt, like a mother would do to comfort a child. it didn't do anything to comfort him or ease the tenseness in his muscles

"why not, andy?" she asked.

her words, however, were lost in the cool night breeze, floating away like clouds before vanishing from the air. they returned to silence, neither of them wanting to say anything else in fear of another fight. they were both so _tired_ of fighting. not one of them had forgotten the years they had to spend apart, alone in their own separate beds because even the sight of each other made them sick, heads spinning with anger and hurt. emotions were something not easily controlled, even when you've lived far beyond human years.

he responded, anyways, throat croaking in response as if he were holding back tears. andy had never been good at concealing what he was feeling, especially when what he felt was vulnerable and open. but still, he tried.

"they'll never accept us here. you know that."

"andy-"

"don't even try to deny it," he sighed, taking one last, long drag of his cigarette before he put it out and threw it into the small black pot set out. there was a faint urge to keep it lit, throw it out the window and hope the city went up in flames and everything burned to the ground, including the people. it wouldn't happen, though, knowing that it was impossible and he would be punished further for it, so he resorted to tensely folding his hands in his lap and looking out at the world in front of him.

what a lonely world it was.

"andy, not everyone here hates you," she tried to reason. "please come back to bed."

he shook his head. "can't sleep."

"andy, please don't do this," she pleaded, holding on to his arm as if he were going to fall out any moment, "not tonight."

"em, i don't wanna be here," his voice shook. there was no hiding the angry red rings around his eyes anymore, tears wanting to spill through, not even in the dimness. "i don't wanna be here."

"i know!" she cried. "i know, andy! damnit, just go back to bed. we can talk about this at a reasonable hour when you're not dangling half your body dozens of feet above the ground."

"i want to talk about it now," he bit back cursing her, his own wife.

"no, andy."

"if not now, then when?" he turned to her, raising his eyebrows with cold expectancy. his anger too often replaced his grief, they both knew, both expected it. "when will there ever be another time to talk about this? we both know you're going to end up ignoring the subject and never talk about it again."

his wife huffed, resting her hand on her hip. "fine. if you don't want to be here, we can just move. we have the money, don't we? if you don't want to be in los angeles, we don't have to be. if the people here don't accept us, then damnit, just find somewhere with people who _do,_ it's not that _hard_ , andy."

" _there is nowhere!_ " he roared, knocking over the pot that held his finished cigarette and barely registering when it flew off the windowsill and down to the street below.

"there. is. _nowhere_. everywhere we go, we will be cursed. that is his _point_ , emelia!" he snapped at her, quieter than his outburst before, filling with a rage not for her, but for the ones who damned him, damned them both.

"andrew..."

she had stepped back from him, andy realized. he had frightened her. her gaze was soft, with a harshness that only came with fear. not of him, never of him, but rather for his life.

without realizing it, he had almost thrown himself off the edge of the building as well.

once upon a time, that wouldn't have mattered, but now it was a very real, very dangerous situation. and he almost wanted to do it, if it wasn't for his knowledge that he would be trading one kind of suffering for another; a worse alternative he knew all too well, as he had once been the one inflicting it.

"can i see them?" emelia asked quietly.

andy exhaled almost painfully, the ache in his heart reminding himself of the loss he still had not forgotten.

he nodded and, without further word, gently removed his shirt and tossed it back into the room.

"come back into the room," she requested, "please don't argue. just this once."

he didn't move for several seconds, stubbornness wanting to take over until, with resignation, he swung his legs so his feet were firmly planted on the carpet again, arms holding on to the side of the window for support as he crawled back inside towards his wife.

"better?" he asked softly. she nodded, looking him over with gentle, tired eyes.

then, andy turned away from her, displaying his back. she often asked to see it, an act not of sexual or humiliating intent, but of care and concern.

yet no matter how many times this same exact scene has repeated, no matter how much she meant to him or the decades they had spent together, unraveling each other's very souls, he still winced when her cool fingers traced the outlines of his wounds, barely healing over.

"it's been ten years," she murmured, "why haven't they healed?"

andy ignored her question. they both knew well that it would take decades to form their permanent scars.

"they were the biggest piece of me," he said absently, eyes staring off into nothing. "they were the last of me that reminded me of my father and they stripped them away."

"andy-"

"that's not my name, emelia, and you know that."

though he didn't see it, he could practically feel her rolling her eyes.

"lucifer is a little outdated, isn't it? seeing as they cast you out of heaven and hell."

"i hate them," he growled lowly, "i hate them all. both these humans and my brothers."

his wife kissed the top of each wound before turning him around, burying herself in his warmth.

"your father's death is not your fault," she reminded him, arms circling around his biceps. "do well to remember that. it's been ten years, don't you think it's time to start over? and you have me. we're in this together, no matter how much of the world is against us."

"now _please_ , come back to bed."

andy finally nodded, and then dipped down to kiss her, mouth fitting perfectly over hers, the way it was always intended to. the way his father intended it to. nothing and nobody would ever change that, not even the brothers that damned his soul, and then damned hers, too.


	2. my own hell {break your halo}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> song: break your halo by andy black

_breathe._

_in, out._

_breathe, andy._

 

  
he sat on the window sill again, under the exact same sky, darkened with a shadow full of scattered stars that formed galaxies. yet, it felt different, and not because of the difference in time that humans had constructed so long ago.

he felt different.

it was as if all of the oxygen in his lungs had been lit on fire and burned away, melted into a pile of the darkest ash from the darkest reaches of this universe he lived in. he couldn't catch his breath, yet his breathing was perfectly normal, blowing out into the sleeping world ahead of him. it could be seen, considering that winter had now fallen, coating the city in a soft blanket of snow.

the blizzard of white had too soon turned to a lazy drizzle, and when the tiny snowflakes fell on his bare skin, he could not feel it. he didn't feel many things, these days.

so he continued gazing out, sock-covered feet dangling over the almost empty street blow, without a care in the world.

except that he did care. almost too much.

he cared little for the souls below, the ones who begged for money, the ones who gave it to them, the damaged and the damned. he wanted to believe he cared little for his own life, but he couldn't convince himself of that.

emelia was gone tonight, opting to go out and buy groceries instead of sitting in their depressing hotel room and watching her depressing husband contemplate his life for the next millennia. except, of course, he probably wouldn't survive the next millennia.

_inhale. exhale._

it was practically as if his brothers were taking the air from his filthy, corrupted lungs and letting him suffer. tiny, human andy. tiny, human lucifer. they acted like they had the hearts of god and he was the embodiment of evil, yet they were the ones who had him murdered. they were the ones who stripped their family of their wings, cast them out of their homes, and damned them.

really, who was evil and who was good? the lines were so blurred and tonight it made it difficult for andy to decipher. if he was destined to be the vile, wicked king of hell, why did he feel like the lesser of two evils? maybe he had forgotten the feeling of making others suffer at his hand. maybe he had been away for so long that he had changed from the torturer to the tortured.

if only he had earned his father's forgiveness. maybe then andy would've had a chance. they could've returned to heaven and found the ones who sought to destroy their father before it was too late. before everything— _metaphorically_ —turned to hell.

 _maybe i should stop thinking for once,_ andy thought, _it never ends well._

though emelia was miles away, he still felt her. she would always be a part of him, and he of her. it was almost impossible to reach out to her, being fallen, but even feeling her presence calmed his soul.

he reached into the room to the nightstand next to the window and, feeling his way around, grabbed his pack of cigarettes and his lighter. he had acquired a taste for them over the past few months, and it had since become a _slight_ addiction, in his words. the first inhale was intoxicating, pulling him back from what felt like the brink of insanity.

 _she would hate this,_ he thought. it brought a smile to his face.

a moment later it was gone, faded and replaced with a cold, dark expression. that was what thinking did to him. it felt like, at times, these emotions were what now controlled him, what drove him to want to jump off the small slab of cement he was sitting upon.

but he couldn't help it. for so long, he had been without emotions. or at least, emotions that weren't as heightened; barely-there scraps of feelings they used to civilize themselves. and now, it was so different. feeling almost felt _good_ , even on the worst of days. he was a completely different person, although he still had to same strong, bitter hatred for those who wrongly punished him.

still, all the same, he no longer felt like a damn robot, words spitting out of his mouth mechanically, going places he couldn't remember and doing jobs that had seemed so important. compared to now, everything was so insignificant, but that was when he had taken everything for granted. emelia, his home, his _wings_. everything that made him who he was. suddenly everything was so much his head was spinning, the air leaving him.

_damnit, breathe, you fool._

he took a breath. if it wasn't for emelia, andy would've offed himself a long time ago, almost as soon as his wings were severed from his tormented body, or even before then. if it wasn't for emelia, he wouldn't have bared through the excruciating pain of losing the only parts of himself that truly mattered to him. it was for her, it was all for her now. they only had each other, and nothing else.

emelia was not a human. at least, not anymore. there was a point when she was, born human until she reached adulthood and found andy. after that, she became.. more. not quite human, but not quite angel. she had never acquired the same feathered appendages or powers, but she did gain immortality, being his mate. they were destined a forever, and forever was what they would get.

he loved her. god damnit, he loved her. it was a burning pit of flames he gladly walked into, a whole ocean he let wash over and drown him again and again. this love was so powerful it had endured a millenia of hardships, of fighting and wars, centuries spent apart and isolated. they were so different but so in love, and although he had never deserved it, she would never leave him. both of them knew that.

so why did something not feel right? why did him, sitting here, repeating the same process he had for years, feel so damn _wrong?_ why did the lack of her presence sting so bad?

a full second didn't even pass before he felt it. the same stabbing, gut-twisting pain seared through him like a match to a powder keg seconds before it exploded. he threw himself backwards at the sudden white-hot fire, doubling over in complete agony. it was her, he could feel it.

something was wrong. something was very, _very_ wrong. and with that realization, he let out a bone-chilling scream, filled with anguish and raw, angry power that almost tore the building from its roots.

he would find her, and he would tear apart anyone who stood in his way. andy may not have had his wings, but he was the ruler of hell, the eternal fire.

he had a few tricks up his sleeve.


	3. make it through {walk away}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> song: walk away by black veil brides

_one, two, three._

_one, two three._

andy counted his echoing steps, one by one, as the dark hallway flickered with broken fluorescent lights. it was a method he used to keep him focused so his mind didn't stray elsewhere. that happened a lot when he felt scared and wanted to run away from everything that seemed terrifying. _this_ was terrifying.

it had been approximately two days, six hours, and thirty-three minutes since he realized something had happened to emelia. what exactly happened, he really had no clue, but soon he would find out. he knew all of the ins and outs of los angeles, and knew that they couldn't have taken her far. it was too busy, too well-lit. somebody would've spotted a woman held captive.

they may not have been able to link each other to communicate, but since they were a part of each other, he could–essentially–feel her essence, her life force. it was like a constant pull, a gravitational force like the earth used to lure in the moon.

whoever had taken her had no idea who they chose to wrong—and if they did, they would have a very, _very_ big storm coming. he was not about to sit back on his stupid window and cry out for her when she wasn't going to come home. he was done with crying and wallowing in his grief and sadness. he would no longer allow himself to be a shell of a man like he had become. he would not let anything happen to her if he could help it. this time, he could, so alas he was here, walking through miles upon miles of abandoned tunnels under the city of angels.

as he marched confidently through the darkness caused partially by the night that loomed overhead, he dug into that great, massive power, reveling in how good it felt to awaken it from its deep slumber. however, he hadn't gotten as far as he would've hoped so. being so long in a world with little magic, away from the lands that fed into his magic, had left him more depleted than he had first been. it was like he was bound to chains, unable to go farther into the well that was his power.

bound to the human vessel in which he was contained, the amount of power that still thrummed within his chest, racketing and vibrating throughout veins and muscle and bone, may not have been enough to summon the wicked creature–his true form–forward, but it could be enough to destroy entire armies, entire _cities_ , within moments. surely they wouldn't go as far as to test him like that?

halting his steps, andy sniffed the air, cocking his head; the ultimate apex predator trying to catch the scent of his prey. oh, how he would feast tonight.

whoever these pathetic beasts were, he would destroy them, rip them apart bone by bone. once, long ago, he had to live a life without the one supreme being he was meant for, _created_ for. everything—gone, for centuries. there was no way, heaven or hell, that she was slipping through his slick fingers this time. the dark part of the man he used to be slithered forward, hunting mode engaged as his muscles locked into place. tendrils of dark were unleashed, reaching out once again to search for her location within the old, darkened train tunnels.

it was this _thing_ that he had just become that made him feel the closest to the monster that lurked under the surface of his skin. the crimson hell-beast raked claws down the thick obsidian wall of his mind, testing the barrier as if there was a hole, a fault where it could slip through and take power once again, ripping the cage of this human vessel to shreds and reclaiming all of its glory. its instincts were like a loud siren blaring through its entire body. _protect, protect, protect._

little did it know, it screamed through andy's blood, too, pounding with every echoing step. he didn't need its form to become the beast. he was already the beast.

_one, two, three._

each step brought him closer and closer to the only woman he had left to call his family, and it was when he turned a bend in the tunnels that the smell reached his sensitive nostrils. they flared, the calm, cool anger he had just possessed turning into white hot flame. it seared through his body, blood boiling with a rage unknown even to him.

he let out a furious roar that shook the walls of the train tunnels, releasing the damper on his power a little more—a warning. the devil was coming, and he was close. flee, or die.

andy knew what the fools chose even before he let out his warning. nobody would think to be scared of an angel without its wings and most of its power, but little did they know just how much damage he already imagined inflicting. how they would be crying out in agony, begging for it to stop, but he would not stop.

they took the last thing that meant something from him, after they had already taken everything else. the still-fresh wounds that marked the places where his wings had been attached now seared, as if they had been ripped out all over again. there was about to be hell to pay, and it would not be cut short. he would draw out their pain for as long as he could.

he no longer felt like the weak, almost-human male he had been just a few nights before, crumpling into his lover's arms because it would not stop _hurting_. the man that stormed through the dark, his power surrounding him like a thick cloud, was a completely different person. this man knew vengeance and only vengeance.

he leashed his power once again, tucking it into the shadowed parts of his mind. the warning was given, and that was all they would get. for now. he had to let them think he was already spent, reduced to the weak earthling they thought him to be. the fire within him still raged on, but the dark cloud of power broke and he was visible once again.

  
the room was darker than the tunnels when he walked through the doors, wide open for him. they knew he was coming, no doubt, but they wouldn't be expecting a monster. they would be expecting a fallen angel with his tail tucked between his legs, begging on his knees for his wife.

they had no idea.

it wasn't a large space, a little bigger than a normal office. it was empty of furniture but full of discarded garbage, nowhere to hide except for the dark corners of the room. emelia was nowhere in sight. she wasn't here, he could scent that much, but there _was_ somebody else in the room.

"hello, brother," a voice greeted. a man peeled himself from the shadows, walking into the light and revealing the menacing eyes that still managed to haunt his dreams. he swallowed the twinge of fear that rose in his throat, keeping his calm composure.

"gabriel," andy nodded stiffly, gesturing to the empty room. he didn't meet the angel's eyes that glowed pure silver. "where is she?"

"oh, you mean your darling mate? what was her name—emelia, was it? what a lovely woman. she's quite dull though, don't you think?" he cocked his head. testing him. "i much prefer it when she doesn't talk. especially when she's moaning my na-"

he bit back a growl, the low rumble turning into a pathetic whine. he almost crumpled to his knees to add on to the effect but refrained. they would not put him on his knees as long as he lived.

"where is she, gabriel?"

gabriel clicked his tongue a few times and shook his head, footsteps echoing as he stepped forward. he would not give her up easily, andy knew, if at all. he was going to have to fight for her, but right now he was not the one who had the upper hand. no matter how much power he still possessed, gabriel had three times the amount. he needed to wait until there was opening—until he knew where emelia was and could strike a blind spot and rip him to shreds with ease.

"what's the fun in that, brother? i was hoping we could have a little fun first."

andy's bones screamed at that. _brother_. he was not _anyone's_ brother, especially gabriel's. he stopped being a brother the day his father died and they cast him out of hell, the only remaining home he had. now he knew that emelia would always be his home, and he wouldn't make the mistake of letting them take away his home again.

"what kind of fun?" he murmured thickly, swallowing as if he was fearful.

"intrabit," gabriel beckoned, talking to someone andy hadn't known was there. their powers, he remembered. they used them to mask their scent. it had been so long since he had used them, he almost forgot.

_intrabit—enter._

two men stepped into the room from behind him, causing him to turn to the side but not fully around. the last time he had put his back to gabriel, things had not ended well, as he had said so many times, and now they were here. he wouldn't make that mistake again.

what he saw next made his blood run cold, turning to ice from his heart to the tips of his fingers. the composure he had been trying to maintain was shattered, turning to shambles within the confines of his mind and his expression. it fell, and he felt like falling too, crumpling down into a submissive stance and swearing his life to them, if only they kept away. he was sure the searing pain he had felt on his wounds was a reminder, a memory—not a real physical thing. but now, right in front of his eyes, he realized that he had made a mistake as they took the opened box to the center of the room.

the pain was real, and he had severely, severely underestimated the wits of his brothers, because in the box was a set of nearly pure white wings, feathers looking as if they were dipped in ash at the edges. muscle, bone, and tissue were all still exposed at the heart of them, like they had just been ripped clean off.

they were his wings, and he knew exactly what they were going to do to them. they weren't finished yet, though, because gabriel once again gestured for someone to enter the room, still grinning like a madman who just started the apocalypse.

two more men walked in, both also his brothers, but this time there was not a box in between them. this time, it was a woman, bound in heavy chains that weighed her down like anchors, the only thing keeping her up the arms of the two captors. her clothes were ripped and dirtied, blood still dripping from a flesh wound on her side.

emelia reeked of sweat, tears, and blood, and that was enough to cause him to stumble back in terror; but what scared him the most was the look in her eyes. they held so much fear, so much _pain_ , but most of all—they held a goodbye. it was written all over her face, and seen in the way she dragged herself forward.

andy slowly came to the terrifying realization that she may not be leaving this room alive.


	4. the demons here {beyond my reach}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> song: beyond my reach by andy black

andy wanted to believe that the scene unfolding in front of him was all just another bad dream. in the early morning, he would wake up again, take his pack of cigarettes and climb on to the same window sill he'd been sitting on for years while emelia slumbered. he wanted to believe that, he did, but the agonizing moments that held him captive in the dark room kept him in the present.

there would be no future, he realized, if he did not figure out a way for them to get out of this situation alive. he'd rather have his wings ripped out again than lose emelia and the life they were slowly rebuilding together. whatever happened next, they would be doing it together.

she was still here, he reminded himself, a fraction more than an arm's length away. if he reached forward, maybe he could...

gabriel cackled, clapping his hands together like the madman he was, grinning as if he was a human who had just won the lottery. "now, let's get started, shall we? i know you've been _dying_ to get out of that... _dump_ of a room, brother, haven't you?"

the dark-haired male refrained from responding, his mind frantically searching for a way to get the woman he so dearly loved out alive, even if it had to cost him his own life—but him, a fallen angel of a decade, versus three trained warrior angels? he was no match. one of them, he could take on and leave with flesh wounds, but this was impossible, and they all knew it.

still, he would not give up. his anger sat, simmering just below his skin and trying to form into something tangible. something that could be used as a weapon, as opposed to a weakness.

"tell me what you want from me, gabriel, and i'll do it, but let emelia go,"  he croaked, his voice sounding weak and torn up. it was good, convincing, even. he wanted to sound resigned, as if he had already given up any possible chance of escape. better to bargain than waste time on stalling for a plan half-formed.

except he was stalling to buy them time. it may have been a fool's error, but it was the best he could do, clutching on to the power that bounced through every nerve ending in his body and held it tight, saving it for when it was needed most.

"it's simple really," he said, the soles of his black dress shoes clacking annoyingly against the floor before stopping in front of andy, so close their breaths mixed. "i want to play a game. you used to love games, didn't you? yes, yes, i remember very well. what was your favorite? would you rather?"

everything in andy's body turned to stone, halting, everything except his even, steady breaths. even his heart stopped, not wanting to give away the true fear that he felt inside, melting everything into a pool of black, terrifying darkness. would you rather was a game teenagers played at parties when they were drunk—but his brothers? they were much, much worse.

would you rather was far from his favorite game. it was what he saw in his nightmares. he used to hide so they couldn't find him and force him into it, but they'd end up finding him, anyways. behind their father's back, they would sneak away and play it, far enough to where nobody could hear the screams.

they weren't only his screams, though. they were the screams of innocents, souls of humans living peacefully within the gates of heaven, snatched away to be tortured by beings thought to protect them. he wanted to help them, he even tried to stop it, but after years and years of the endless games, he finally gave in.

he was the one who had to choose, back then. it was always him and nobody else, because he was the prey and they were the predators. they always had fun feasting on him when their father wasn't paying attention, and ever-so-subtly when he was. in the end, it was him who was blamed for betraying god, and in return was cast down to hell, nothing but his clothes and emelia with him.

all he had ever known was pain. this wasn't the first time, and he was going to make sure it wasn't the last. andy looked behind gabriel to the girl bound in chains and reached for her through their bond, trying to give her as much comfort as he could, sending her a silent message.

 _together_.

he met the angel's eyes again and nodded once. "okay. but let her go."

"sorry, i can't do that," gabriel said with fake sincerity, stepping away and to the other side of the box containing andy's wings. to the right of them stood emelia and her captors, directly across from him. they were both so, so close, but they had never been farther.

"now, i'll go first!" he exclaimed, his grin never ending. "lucifer, would you rather i break both of your lover's legs... or should we watch each of your feathers burn, one by one?"

"you know i can't choose," he shook his head. "i-i can't-"

"i know. to make it fair, i'll give you three seconds to choose, so i guess you'd better get a move on or i'll break her legs, too."

"wait-"

"one," he said slowly, tapping his shoe against the floor impatiently.

either way, he would be in pain, physically or emotionally. it was a choice, andy or emelia. which one would suffer this time? it was a trick question. they would both suffer, no matter what he chose.

"two."

the answer came to him before he could properly think about it, because the answer would always be the same, if it came down to him or her.

"my wings!" he cried out. "i choose my wings, please.. please don't hurt her."

_please come back to bed._

_please don't hurt her._

together, he promised her. together, they would get out of here. he promised, and he had always kept his promises to her, but if this was going to end with a choice between his life or hers, he was going to choose his and hope it would spare hers. he would break any promise to keep her safe. to keep her alive.

"excellent!" gabriel replied, spreading his hands over the side of the box and leaning over. "accendo."

all at once, his feathers turned to flame, everything set to fire with the exception of the flesh. that, he would save for later.

andy couldn't stop his screams as his knees buckled and gave out from underneath him. it brought him to his knees, palms slamming into the cold concrete floor. he crumpled from the pain as tears pooled in his unforgiving eyes. he had never forgiven them for what they had made him endure, and he sure as hell wouldn't forgive them if they had hurt emelia like this. his wounds burned, becoming even more painful as a whole decade passed and he felt like he was losing them all over again.

"please!" he screamed, agony pouring over him and rooting itself in his chest, ripping his lungs from his ribcage and crushing his heart until it was nothing but red-hot sand. the pain was an endless abyss of torture, and although he couldn't watch them burn to ash with his own eyes, he saw it in his mind, playing for him like a video on a screen, and he couldn't shut it out, couldn't close his eyes and wait for it to go away.

there was nothing but pain. time stood still, and he knew nothing but fire, burning him alive yet managing to salvage every piece of him. then it was over, and all in one breath the fire stopped burning, leaving his feathers nothing but dying embers and his wings nothing but fiery red flesh.

andy sat back on his knees with panting gasps, the world slowly coming back to him in crashing waves threatening to pull him back down. it was the sounds of emelia's screaming that brought him back first as color poured back into his vision and he was back in the room he was trapped in.

"wasn't that lovely, brother?" gabriel beamed, appearing next to him unnoticed. "ready for the next one?"

once again, he didn't answer. the wounds that marred his angelically pale skin still sizzled with the memory of his miserable torment, but he stood anyway, pushing past his weakness as if it never existed at all, and he was relieved to know that his love's screaming was not from her own suffering, but from his.

"brother, are you sure we should-"

"are you questioning me, joshua?" gabriel growled and stalked to his brother's side, holding emelia's right arm.

joshua's eyes flickered nervously back and forth between each of his eyes, wondering if he should dare cross the powerful, violent man.

"sir, maybe we should take a break-"

andy saw the movement in his mind before it happened. as if it was a movie, time slowed and he watched on as the man responded by lurching forward and snapping the captor's neck, shattering the bones with his hand.

the woman now standing behind him muffled her cry through her hands, her eyes never leaving the man that collapsed, dead, on to the floor, bones protruding from his broken neck. and what a sickening sight it was, one of andy's own brothers dead in front of him, killed by another. he would've laughed at how ironic it would come to be, if his murderous brother hadn't spoken again.

"useless fool," he spat at joshua's corpse. then he proceeded to wipe his clean hands on his handkerchief, like they had been stained with blood. "now i would love to play a few more rounds, dear lucifer, but i'm afraid we're almost out of time, so the only round left to play is the last one. are you ready, brother?"

time, he needed to make more time, stall so that he might find what they were planning. andy spat on the floor, just missing his shoes. "go to hell, gabriel."

gabriel clicked his tongue and shook his head. "what would father have to say about that? i'm sure he wouldn't appreciate a fallen angel speaking to his most prized son like that, would he?"

"i wouldn't know, considering you _murdered_ him."

he let out a howling laugh and stepped right up to andy, getting in so close to his face their breaths intermixed. "is that what you think? hm? what a rutting idiot you must be, lucy. you see, you have lived on the assumption that our father is dead and i was the one who killed him for ten years, but we never said he was killed, did we?"

"you were so blinded by that wretched _human_ that you failed to see it, brother," the angel hissed, real sparks bouncing like electricity off his fingertips. "he is _god_ , he is the _almighty_ , what in heaven's name makes you think an immortal god who created the very earth we now stand upon could be killed, and with just a simple blade?"

andy refused to believe it. for ten years, god was dead. _truly_ dead, murdered by his venomous sons who sought his power. for ten years, he had been exiled and lived in his sorrows, mourning his father, the greatest being to have ever lived. "no, these are lies. you are lying, gabriel. i saw it myself. i saw the life drain out of him, felt his power diminish. i will _not_ be subjected to this slander and i will _not_ be held captive with my beloved by _you_. it ends now. _this. ends. now_."

gabriel backed away and stalked to where he first stood, gaze casting over everyone in the room. then he raised his hands and said, "do you hear this, my true brethren? do you hear this _fool_ , this _bastard_ , spewing nonsense, believing that he has us beat, that he can just simply _leave?_ hear me, lucifer. this will not end until your head is severed from your neck and hung on a stake—but you know me, brother. i like to play with my prey first. so let's get on with the final round."

"would you rather... your wings, or emelia?"

no. _no_. 

he cursed himself. he should've known the endgame, and should've done something about it by now. instead, they were still here, still trapped and playing at this dangerous game. emelia should've been safe and far away, but instead she was magically still upright and focused on him. defeated, but strong. strong enough to accept whatever he chose. 

but gabriel knew he wouldn't be able to choose. so he didn't. and he hoped it would be enough.

the power in him gathered.

then it unfurled, and within a second the room was cloaked in darkness. it wouldn't hold for long. in a few more seconds, the angels would be able to break through it with power of their own, and everything would turn much, much deadlier. he didn't have time to get to all of them and kill them, but he had enough time to run. 

the awareness of time pressed him on and he lurched forward to where emelia would be, wasting no time heaving her on to his shoulder and bolting out of the room, the darkness leaving them as they emerged into a large, lit corridor. he gathered that same power he used in the room to boost him on, a blur of wind and shadows.

he ran as fast as he could for as far as he could until the building shook with a venomous roar, signaling that his time was up. they had just reached one of the entrances to the tunnels when he set her down and held her close.

"i'm so sorry," he breathed, soft and hurried. "i'm sorry for everything i have made you endure. i have been selfish for centuries, but the most selfish i have ever been was the years i have known you. emelia, when i discovered you were the one intended for me, i loved you. and i will love you until the bitter end. i have made you stand with me all this time out of my selfish love for you, but today i can't afford to love you. i can't afford to be selfish."

"what are you talking about, andy?" she whispered, cupping his cheeks and bringing him closer. she only had to search his eyes for a moment before she understood what he intended to do, and grew terrified. "no, please, no andy-"

he released himself from her and pushed her towards the exit. "i love you, emelia. i will love you even after death. please go, you have to hurry. get as far away as you can, and don't go back home. go to the bank, take out all the money you can, and get the hell out of los angeles, do you understand me?"

tears fell from her eyes, but she nodded, backing away. she wanted to pull him towards her and kiss him for as long as she could, but even she knew the direness of the situation. there was no time. 

"i love you," she cried, then repeated it. "i love you."

then she turned away and called a cab. andy turned away before she climbed inside and stalked back towards his brothers, whom had started scouring the tunnels in search of him. there was no doubt that his magic had once again failed and his scent was revealed, drawing them towards him. he was not afraid. for her, he would never be afraid.

he would fight. until the bitter end.


	5. your last goodbye {in the end}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> song: in the end by black veil brides

the underground tunnels were full of a still, tense quiet, as if they, too, were waiting and preparing for the battle to come. not even the rats made a sound, for they had already made a mad dash for the sewers as soon as they felt the immense power building in the air around them. nobody and nothing wanted to be there for the destruction that was about to occur underneath the streets of the city of angels by the very same creatures it was named after.

andy wanted to think of the woman he just left behind to run—alone in a world with angels who wanted to hunt her down. hopefully, he had bought her some time, and they would be too distracted with him to go after her. he couldn't protect her if they did, and no matter how strong her will was, she was no match for a full-fledged, centuries-trained angel—but he didn't. he couldn't, because, if he did, he would become distracted. distractions made you weak, and he was weak enough.

"lucifer, dear," the voice of his brother purred out, echoing through the enclosed space. "i can smell you. you can't run or hide for much longer. you know we will find you. and when we do... i will end you, and then i will send you to the very hell you used to rule. you remember that, don't you brother?"

his nostrils flared, both angered and disgusted by the lack of empathy, or any feeling at all, in the heavenly angel's voice. but then...

then, andy wondered, like he usually would for the past ten years, about his father, and why, if gabriel's words rang true, hadn't he killed him, after all? he certainly had the means to, as he had seen that ill-fated day, so why didn't he?

everything gabriel did over the millennia, everything he was and who he sometimes pretended to be, came back to him as if it were his own life flashing before his eyes, and not his brother's. every word he had spat out in hatred towards andy, all the beatings and the cruel games he liked to play. nobody could be that cruel, not without a reason.

and that was when he started to figure it out, the twists and turns in the mazes of gabriel's consciousness coming to make sense to his own as he stood in that dim tunnel. he may not have had as much power as the rest of them, but he had knowledge, and boy, had the king of hell become wickedly cunning in the years he reigned over his kingdom.

he was the king, and kings do not bend the knee for anything but their crown. today, he refused to bend his.

"if you want to kill me, gabriel, then _do it_ ," andy spat, stalking further towards the creature hell-bent on revenge. "father will be so proud, won't he? tell me, does he know what you have been planning? or did you go behind his back again and hope he won't find out what you intend to do to me?"

"i am a millennium old, _brother_ ," he snarled, so close now that the devil could hear his footsteps clacking on the dirty floor, "i don't need anyone's permission to end the life of fallen _scum_."

the beast within him stirred, anxiously awaiting for the moment it got to sink its claws into him. there was no way for it to escape its cage on earth, but if _he_ killed the men who were intent on killing _him_ , the power released could be enough to return him to the place he had always belonged. not in the whitest of clouds, closed within the gates of a peaceful kingdom watched over by a god who was never there, nor in a tower of steel, tyrannically ruling over an endless pit of hell-fire, but with his home, his heart, his beloved. his emelia.

then, and only then, could they return to hell to unleash the beast inside on everyone who had dared to wrong him. the dark, hellish being inside him promised that the souls of his brethren would suffer in immense agony for the rest of eternity, pictures of their ravaged souls flashing in the two creatures whose minds were one.

that was enough to spur him on, to rally the strength he begged would be enough combined with his newfound wits. there was a weakness in everyone, an ocean of water that could destroy the fire in his enemy's bones, leaving a mark that would be etched in their minds for the rest of their immortal lives, heaven, earth, or hell.

"or do you?" andy snarled lowly. "do you remember what daddy dearest did to you, gabriel, those centuries you ran wild and rampant, disobedient to each and every one of his commands? the way he tore your wings out, one by one, before repairing them and doing it all over again? do you remember that? is that why you go behind his back now, forever the hated child, to destroy his favorite son? does he know how you ripped my wings out in the exact places he ripped yours? does he know-"

a mighty roar was unleashed, a blast of pure white power turning the corner, heading straight for the darkness andy had wrapped around himself. but he was prepared, had anticipated exactly when he would strike, and dived into the hole of the sewer, heaving the latch closed in an unseen beat. he raced down the completely dark tunnel that stank of human waste, burning his nose. he didn't need the light to see, for he already calculated exactly where he was going, running his fingers straight across the ceiling of the tunnel until they hit the next latch.

quietly, he pushed it upwards, using his darkness as a wind to help him out of the stench. gabriel stood still, a predator sniffing out his prey, but what he did not know was that _he_ was the prey, and andy the predator.

dropping into a low crouch, he summoned every ounce of darkness he had gathered in the past few minutes, eyes closing, reaching out with that darkness to pinpoint the other bodies of power still moving towards them. he said one last prayer to the father that had never protected him, both a plea for help and a curse on his name. to hell with the god of humans. he damned all of them, and then damned his sons, too, to a life full of darkness. so he became exactly what his father had never intended him to. that darkness.

there was an echoing silence as he lashed out, a violent strike of the darkest night into the hearts of his betrayers. it moved in visible waves, but it was so quick it couldn't be seen, like lightning in a storm. andy could feel it, their deaths, as it licked at the strands of his power. he recoiled as soon as he felt it, not allowing himself to feel the guilt. they had no time to protect themselves, which was exactly what he wanted, but they were once his brothers.

 _they deserved it_ , he told himself. they were far from innocent.

there was no sound but gabriel's breathing hitching not even a millisecond before the power was released, erupting through the tunnels with no leash or damper. it was as if he sensed the souls of his brethren falling in submission to the knives of the wicked, sending them far, far below, to where only true evil lay.

before it could reach them, the devil's hell-flames wrapped themselves around the white-hot power that shot like a comet through endless space, might and roaring. instead of suffocating it, they consumed it, the immense power a rushing river through his bloodstream. he felt the flames, felt the power, but the whole time, he was watching the way his brother crumpled to the dirty cement, riddled with dust, a coarse scream echoing through the empty hallway.

he was breaking, his brother, a complex riddle of steel and broken glass unwinding right in front of him. for a moment it was painful to watch, but andy reminded himself who this was and what he had taken from him, forced him to leave.

"you wanted to be the favorite," the king of hell empathized, "but he would never let you have that, would he? so you became greedy, and envious, watching as i grew up the ever-loved son. you tried to break me those centuries, pinning me down and watching as you murdered the humans i loved, the blame falling on me. i loved the humans, and you knew that, so you made me evil in their eyes, and so they called me satan. they cursed me, shunned me, all because of you."

"first, you took them. all of them. and then you made me play that damned game when the man who hated you wasn't looking. i thought it was over, but you framed me once more, convincing our father to condemn me to hell, as if it were a better place for me. i decided, then, that i would become the very devil everyone feared, a version of myself that i despised with every corner of my being. the _only_ reason i hadn't completely lost who i was, was because of emelia, and today you tried to take her from me. she is my only family, gabriel, something that you never we-"

" _enough!_ " gabriel bellowed, slowly standing up from where he was bent over at the knees, turning to face the brother he despised. his eyes of blue were rimmed with angry red, the tears of a mortal flowing freely down his face. he spoke with a deadly calm, "they were my family, lucifer. the angels you just murdered, they were _my_ family, and you don't touch them."

"well it's too late," andy hissed, quick footsteps bringing him to the angel's face, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. "i loved them, too, but you turned them against me along with everybody else. you took _everything_ , you son of a fucking bitch. for ten years i have lived in shame and sorrow because of it and my wounds have not yet healed and you will pay for this, brother."

his nostrils flared, eyes darkening from blue to the darkest night, a wicked, inhuman grin spreading across his features. and he said, "you will pay for this, _brother_."

"do it," gabriel dared, defeat written in the way he slumped into his brother's arms, defeated. it was all over for him, and they both knew it. the power unleashed from the deaths of the only ones he loved was enough to remove the cage that kept his beast captive for ten years. "let the worst version of yourself take over, brother. end it, as you have wanted to do for centuries. killing me would give you enough power to go back home and you know it, so do it. _end me_."

but he couldn't. the hesitation, that was the problem. there was sympathy in his eyes as he looked down at the angel he had come to loathe, begging for a death that would only bring him eternal suffering. the person he had locked inside of himself, right before his wings had been ripped off and his power leashed, that was no longer him. he did not gain satisfaction feeding off the souls of the damned, nor did he revel in the pain and misery of others. in the ten years he had gone without this creature, something inside of him had changed. maybe it was the isolation, or emelia, that brought out the light he had never seen in himself. whatever it may have been, it led him here, standing over gabriel with mercy in his heart.

he had no clue he would ever be capable of mercy towards the angel he used to fall his brother, but here they stood.

andy shut his eyes, head hanging low as he reined in the darkest parts of his soul once again. he did not open his eyes until his brother started shaking with sobs, turned the brightest blue once more. he leaned his forehead against gabriel's, slowly moving them to the floor and moving the hand that had fisted his shirt to his shoulder, the other hand resting above his beating, immortal heart.

"i'm sorry, brother," andy murmured with a surprising sorrow. "perhaps, in another life, we would've loved each other."

gabriel was still sobbing as he begged, "please, luce... _please_."

"i did love you, once," he continued, "and i loved them once, too. i still would, if you hadn't turned into the monster you are. but i forgive that. all you wanted was to be loved."

andy allowed himself to shed a single tear as he whispered to him, "goodnight, brother," knowing full well where the angel would go.

he unleashed his power, and darkness swept through gabriel's heart.

-

"i'm tired," andy murmured, his voice losing itself in the cold night. once again, he was sat upon the same windowsill in which he started, his sock-covered feet doing nothing to hold off the cold. he didn't mind, though, because the numbness of his skin matched the numbness of his heart.

"i'm tired of the games, of having everything to lose and nothing to gain. i'm tired of playing into the hands of others and waiting on the world to–to change and stop hating the angel i used to be. i'm tired of fighting, of hurting... living, sometimes."

he waited for a response only to be met with an empty silence, cursing himself as he remembered he was alone on this windowsill, in this room.

it had been two weeks since the day in the tunnels. the power was still with him, as was the guilt. killing used to come so easily to him, as familiar and comforting as his lover's presence, but she was far away now. he didn't know where she'd gone, but she had not returned. he waited for her still, alone in every other sense of the word.

"i do not know what it is that makes me feel so... so dead inside. these human emotions, however long they have stayed with me, are foreign. i do not know how to control them. i feel so much at once that i have become numb, a mindless human in the thrall of time. that's all i have, time..." he chuckled to himself as he trailed off, his story falling on deaf ears.

"i know she will return," he continued with confidence. "we will always find each other, in the end. and until then, i will be here, forever waiting for my forever love, wherever she may be."

andy's eyes trailed down to the single red rose he held in his hand, a thorn pricking his finger. it did not bleed, or even seem to pierce the skin. two weeks ago, it would've left a stinging pain behind. now, there was nothing.

that was all he was ever going to have; all he was ever going to be.

"i am tired of this place, living in a world twisted in their beliefs to hate the angel that had always loved them. i am tired of wandering around, afloat on a never-ending sea of aloneness. i have an eternity of life, but what is the purpose of having it if there is nobody to spend it with?"

he returned to silence once more, his body still hunched and resting against the side of the window. there he sat, and for hours he both admired and scorned the world in front of his eyes. most of all, he waited on a woman that did not return.

 _please come back to bed_ , she would say to him, if she were there. he would, after a few more tries, reluctantly oblige, crawling under the sheets and holding her to him, his only home.

he sighed, blinking away the thought. "perhaps another day, another world."

when the clock struck 2 am and the city had finally gone to sleep, andy took a deep breath, scooting forward and gripping the windowsill tightly. he did not allow himself to cry. his lip started to quiver, but he bit down on it. there would be no more tears.

he wondered for a moment if anybody would record this moment, though he knew it would be full of false truths. god's favorite son and the ruthless angel of hell, finally meeting his possible end.

what a story it would be.

with one last inhale, andy pushed himself off of the ledge, diving headfirst towards the vacant streets below. the wind ripped at him, an invisible hand that could not catch him. the sound of it was so loud he could no longer hear his own thundering heartbeat. falling was almost like flying, a euphoric sensation spread through every nerve in the body, except the broad horizon and the edges of space were not there to greet you. instead, all you were met with was the frozen, cracked concrete.

he was too afraid to close his eyes, but so, so terrified of keeping them opened. andy had never felt so much terror in all of his eternal life, no matter the things he'd been through. at the same time, there'd never been so much exhilaration.

he laughed a melodic, heavenly sound of euphoria before spreading his arms, welcoming the adrenaline rush. it was over in seconds as he plummeted towards the earth.

then, in one massive swoop, he was twisting his body and barreling upwards towards the cloud-covered stars. large, magnificent white wings spanned far past his fingertips. he had escaped death once before, but he hadn't expected this to work.

just ten seconds ago, he had accepted that he was going to die, that he had been imagining the old, familiar weight upon his back and his wounds were still opened. every ounce of regret and despair he had felt in those last few seconds had dissipated, leaving him with a happiness so pure he did not know how to begin to comprehend.

so he opened his mouth and let out a whooping howl, soaring across the dark horizon. wind-dried tears stained his face, but he no longer cared. when the day broke, he would return, but tonight, he would live.

for what was true happiness if you didn't let it radiate from every fiber of yourself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's the end! to be honest, i had decided on an ending a few months ago, but while i was writing this yesterday, i decided to change it. this entire short story was supposed to be revolves around andy and how he struggled and tried to cope with his past and his emotions as he sat upon that windowsill. my original idea was to have gabriel kill him off, but i wanted to give gabriel a little bit of humanity and weakness instead, along with showing that andy's 'beast' was not a different creature altogether, but rather a metaphor for a version of himself he had created while he ruled over hell. i wanted andy to return to his windowsill one last time, this time alone, making him more vulnerable. he had assumed that, because of all of the power he had gained, his wings had grown back (like lucifer if anyone's seen that show). he had accepted his possible death and would've been okay with it, but instead he lived, and the rest is open for interpretation.
> 
> i hope you loved this story as much as i do, it was an inspiring piece to write and i will forever hold it dear to me.


End file.
